Gentle Farore, Not a Sequel!
by Davin Sunrider
Summary: After escaping his tenure as the Dark Side Comedian, Davin Sunrider, fanfic writer, is unwillingly along for the ride when the Dark Lord Ganondorf gets loose in the Real World, breaking laws and the fourth wall with equal enthusiasm.
1. Felonious Road Trip

**Gentle Farore, Not a Sequel!**

One

('Felonious Road Trip')

Davin Sunrider boldly strode down the halls of Hyrule Castle, sword in hand, fury burning in his smoldering green eyes. The wind howled down the cold tower corridor, impressively sweeping the dashing young man's long, wavy hair and billowing his cloak.

"Your dark reign is at an end, Ganondorf," Davin challenged, brandishing his gleaming weapon. "Face me, if you can!"

"What are you doing?" a deep, unintentionally menacing voice inquired curiously from somewhere behind him.

Davin Sunrider-the non-fictional, rather less physically impressive one-guiltily looked up from his laptop, hurriedly closing the document before Ganondorf could see what it was. "Er, just...checking my e-mail," he said nervously, scratching his recently-grown beard. It was a bit scraggly still, and had been unfavorably compared to a barnyard by his friends, in that, according to them, his face appeared to be growing hay.

Davin was not pleased with the comparison, though he did have to admit that it wasn't the first time his face had been compared to a barnyard. Kids can be so cruel.

The Dark Lord Ganondorf, somehow de-fictionalized and active in The Real World, crossed his arms over his chest, causing his leather jacket to creak ominously, and eyed the young writer dubiously, clearly not believing him.

The two of them were in a coffee shop in a rural Utah town along the highway, having stopped there to re-supply and gas up Davin's truck. Since the police were actively looking for the Dark Lord after Ganondorf had broken an alarming number of laws in an even more alarmingly short period of time, Davin was a bit nervous about the distinctive enormous man walking around in full view of the cell phone-equipped public, but there was no arguing with him.

"I've finished procuring our supplies," said the Dark Lord. "We should depart this outpost as soon as possible."

Davin looked warily up at his captor/road trip 'buddy' as he shut down his laptop and began packing it in its case. "You _did_ pay for it, didn't you?" he asked with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

Ganondorf chuckled darkly, drawing curious stares from the other patrons in the coffee shop. "Of course I did, Sunrider," he said. "I did, however, manage to negotiate a substantial discount."

Davin sighed heavily. Time to get moving again for sure. "Let's go," he said exasperatedly, heading for the door.

Outside, the two of them climbed into Davin's dark blue pickup, which had several storage crates and a motorcycle secured in the bed. The crates and the truck belonged to Davin.

The motorcycle did not.

Neither did the black T-shirt, jeans, boots, and leather jacket Ganondorf wore, or the sawed-off shotgun hidden under the truck's passenger seat.

All of those belonged to a biker the Dark Lord had beaten up at their last stop, when the man had said something less than complimentary about Ganondorf's previous outfit, a full suit of gold-edged plate armor. The armor was currently wedged into the storage crates along with a vast array of soft drinks, (which were Davin's) beer, (which was Ganondorf's), and junk food, which both of them were eating.

Since Ganondorf was now in possession of a motorcycle, Davin didn't see why the Dark Lord didn't just take it and ride off into the sunset, committing felonies along the way. But no! For reasons still unfathomable to the young writer, Ganondorf had decided to keep Davin around and rack up a few more 'accessory to' charges for him. Every time Davin tried to escape, Ganondorf always found him again a few hours later, so he had finally given up and accepted that he would be dying a bullet-riddled death during Ganondorf's inevitable confrontation with the authorities.

As Davin negotiated his way back onto the highway, Ganondorf plugged Davin's MP3 player into the truck's stereo system and promptly began blasting Metallica's 'Sad But True' out of the open windows, much to the annoyance of the retired couple in the sedan they passed. That was one thing that made this little road trip tolerable; at least the Dark Lord shared Davin's taste in music, for the most part.

This was, however, one of the very few positive aspects of Davin's life at present. As he drove down the boringly featureless expanse of Utah desert, headed east, he reflected on how his life had degenerated into a flight from the police in the company of a terrifying man who should have had the good sense to stay fictional.

First, Davin had somehow managed to accidentally get transported into someone else's self-insert story, where Ganondorf had indentured him into servitude, namely as his Court Comedian. After several hellish weeks of being forced to tell jokes or die, Davin had finally discerned the truth of his surroundings, and had made his escape through an impassioned rant, during which he used the creative power of his mind to make the entire experience an admittedly clichéd horrible dream.

Ganondorf, however, took objection to the use of such an awful cliché, and followed him back to The Real World, which he now refused to leave. Davin had successfully managed to hide the hulking Dark Lord in his house for some time, during which period Ganondorf had amused himself by ordering things over the Internet and then terrorizing the delivery people. But, inevitably, the Dark Lord had grown bored and ventured out into 21st-century America, where he promptly got into trouble with the law.

Davin threw an annoyed look at his unwanted traveling companion. "I realize you're not from around here," he said irately, periodically glancing back at the road, "but even _you_ should have known better than to illegally download music. They're really cracking down on that now."

"You didn't have the Apocalyptica album I wanted in your soul-capturing device," Ganondorf replied mildly. "I'm the King of Thieves, remember?"

"You've made that somewhat hard to forget," Davin grumbled, shifting in his seat. he glanced back over at Ganondorf. "And put on your seat-belt! The last thing we need is to get pulled over. 'Click it or ticket', remember?"

Ganondorf pulled the seat-belt across his chest, pointedly ramming it into the buckle with a loud _click_. "Your society is a strange one if the police have to enforce safety procedures," he observed. As Davin passed an SUV, Ganondorf leaned out of his window and bellowed, "Get off your cell phone, asshat! You're going to kill someone!"

The driver of the SUV, startled, promptly put away his phone and clenched his hands around the wheel, eyeing the enormous threatening man nervously.

Davin could barely keep his own eyes on the road as he regarded the Dark Lord with a weirded-out expression once Ganondorf pulled himself back inside the cab.

Ganondorf met his eyes curiously. "That is the traditional warning to drivers engrossed in those devices, is it not? You yourself have used the expression on occasion."

"Yeah, I'm just a little surprised to hear _you_ say it," said Davin.

"Peahats are notoriously dull-witted," Ganondorf said. "It only stands to reason that the corresponding creature from your realm would be similarly unintelligent, and thus suitable for use as an insult."

"That's not what 'asshat' means... Oh forget it," Davin sighed. "Do you have any idea where we're going, or just 'east' still?"

"East," Ganondorf confirmed. "The other two Bearers are still somewhere to the east."

"Wait, what?" Davin exclaimed. "You dragged Link and Zelda here with you?"

"Of course," Ganondorf replied. "I certainly wasn't going to leave them in Hyrule to undo all my hard work while I went chasing after you."

"Why did you go chasing after me?" Davin demanded. "For the hundredth time, why?"

"Do you know how hard it is to find a good comedian?" Ganondorf replied. "Breaking the dimensional barrier was a small price to pay to keep you around, even if you are a bit traitorous."

"Breaking the fourth wall is more like it," Davin grumbled. "You're not even real, you know that?"

"Yes, you've explained it to me," Ganondorf said, reaching out the window to flip off a sports car that zoomed around them, well over the speed limit. From his extended middle finger, the Dark Lord shot a bolt of energy that punctured the sports car's left rear tire.

Davin swerved around the sports car as it slowed down, pulling off to the side of the road, and gave Ganondorf a dirty look. "I wish you wouldn't do that."

"Hyrule is the subject of fiction in your realm," Ganondorf went on as if nothing had happened. His expression shifted to one of distaste. "Some of it better than others."

"I told you 'slash' didn't mean what you thought it did," Davin said. "Serves you right for not listening to me."

"I'm trying to kill Link!" Ganondorf growled. "Why would I ever do something like that with him? I'm the king of an entire race of hot girls who'll do anything I say! _Any_thing!"

Davin sighed. "Would you _please_ stop using my world's slang? It sounds so weird coming from you."

"I'm just trying to fit in, Sunrider dude," said Ganondorf. "You told me I was attracting too much attention."

"You attract attention because you're seven foot six and built like a tank," Davin replied. "Anything else is just whiskers on the catfish."

"'Whiskers on the catfish?'" Ganondorf said dubiously.

"It's a real expression!" Davin said defensively. He looked over at the Dark Lord. "Hey, you don't get to make fun of the way I talk. Be quiet." He glanced back up at the road, than back at Ganondorf. "And how many other people who are supposed to be fictional did you bring with you? Are there some Darknuts running around I should know about?"

"Only Link and Zelda," said Ganondorf. "However, I encountered some trouble in crossing the barrier, so I am not exactly... certain where they are. I can sense their general direction, but little else."

"Lovely," Davin said sarcastically. "I can tell this is going to end well, completely without shoot-outs, explosions, and bodily harm for yours truly."

"If my experiences in your realm are any evidence," said Ganondorf, "we can almost certainly expect all of that. Your law enforcement officers are overly sensitive, in my opinion."

Davin's response was to slam his forehead into the center of his steering wheel hard enough to set off the horn.

"Hey!" Ganondorf shouted, jabbing his shoulder. "Watch the road, asshat!"

* * *

Author's Note: All of my main stories have been so serious/depressing lately that I need to write some humor, stat. I decided when I ended it that I wouldn't make a sequel to 'Merciful Nayru' unless I could make it just as funny as the original, but I've thought of enough good jokes that I think I can have some real fun with this one.

Davin the Asshat-Er, Dark Side Comedian, will return in, "Costume Party's That Way', coming approximately sometime soon. Later!


	2. Where Mountain Goats Fear To Tread

Two

('Where Mountain Goats Fear To Tread')

Davin Sunrider, involuntary outlaw, glared at his passenger/captor/terrifying giant-man-capable-of-inflicting-massive-amounts-of-pain-when-angry road trip 'buddy', the Dark Lord Ganondorf. "Are you proud of yourself?"

Behind the wheel of Davin's pickup, the Dark Lord grinned beneath his mirrored sunglasses and State Trooper hat, recently removed from a probably-still-unconscious highway patrolman who had pulled them over when Ganondorf had failed to signal when passing a convertible.

Or at least, that was as close as police procedure came to describing Davin's truck suddenly leaping like an oversized bullfrog over the convertible, while the driver dropped a beer can on the convertible's driver's head mid-jump.

"He was asking too many questions," Ganondorf said, adjusting the stiff-brimmed hat.

"He's a cop!" Davin snapped, glaring at the Dark Lord. "They tend to ask a lot of questions, especially after seeing a weird-ass stunt like the one you pulled!"

"The convertible wasn't going fast enough," said Ganondorf. "And that SUV wouldn't get out of the other lane. What was I supposed to do?"

"Maintain speed and wait for the SUV to finish passing!" Davin exclaimed. "Not magically fling my truck thirty feet in the freaking air right in front of a cop! You didn't think he'd notice a flying car? We're still in the middle of the salt flats! There's nothing else to look at besides cars, especially flying ones!"

"Calm down," Ganondorf chuckled. "This is why I'm driving now; you're too tense."

Davin scoffed. "Okay, A, you're only driving because you threatened me and I'm absolutely terrified of you, and B, I'm _tense_ because you keep doing freaky magical crap like blowing up other cars and _beating up policemen!_" Davin shouted, on the verge of hysteria. "When we finally get caught, I'm going to go straight to jail because of you. You know what would happen to me in prison?"

Ganondorf seemed about to reply, but Davin went on. "Me, neither! And I don't particularly want to find out!" He shoved his fingers into his hair, which badly needed cutting. "They might not even send me to jail. The government's gonna want to know how you do your magic stuff, so we're probably both going to end up in some lab somewhere, being poked and prodded to death until they dissect-"

Davin glanced up just in time to see a huge Gerudo fist headed straight for his face.

* * *

When Davin awoke again, the sun was low in the sky, gleaming off of snow-capped mountains around them. As he slowly returned to consciousness, Davin became aware that the vehicle was doing an awful lot of turning, and that the mountains outside seemed to be awfully close.

"Where are we?" he mumbled sleepily, rubbing his eyes with one hand.

Eyes that were awfully tender, come to think of it; the whole upper part of his face ached. Davin was about to comment on that, until he remembered why, and shut up instead.

"Colorado... I think," came the uncertain reply.

Davin glanced over at the unfortunately-no-longer-fictional Dark Lord in the driver's seat. "You think?"

He raised himself in his seat to look out the window, but the subsequent rush of vertigo pushed him back down. "We... are not on the highway," Davin said, surprised.

"No," Ganondorf growled, muttering to himself in angry-sounding Gerudo as he turned a map over in his hands. "The highway was blocked due to construction. This is a detour."

Davin braced himself with the 'Oh-Crap!' bar above his window as the truck hit a particularly large bump. "Are we even on a road?" he asked incredulously, looking out of the back window at the snow-covered hillside behind them. "Or are you following mountain goats or something?"

"This is the path that was marked!" Ganondorf barked irritably. "I am simply following the route on the map."

"I see an eagle," Davin said, peering out of his window. "_Below_ us."

"Quiet!" Ganondorf snapped, viciously bouncing the truck over another bump in the alleged 'road'.

"Maybe we should ask a Yeti for directions," Davin said, eyes locked on the up-close-and-personal snowy mountains' majesty outside.

"Silence!" Ganondorf snarled. "I know where I'm going!"

"Are we stopping off at Jeremiah Johnson's on the way?" Davin asked snidely.

"Be quiet!" Ganondorf bellowed, smashing his way through a snow-drift with a ferocious gleam in his eye.

"Hey, Your Evilness, it's either this or scream until I pass out," Davin replied, maintaining his death-grip on the 'Oh-Crap!' bar. "Pick one."

Ganondorf lunged at him with one huge fist, but another bump threw off his aim and he missed.

"You've gotta find your way back to the main road, man," Davin said, reaching for the heater controls. "'Cause if we get stuck out here, I sure as hell ain't gonna cuddle you to keep warm. I'd rather freeze to death."

"The feeling is decidedly mutual," the Dark Lord growled, clenching both hands around the wheel again.

"Can't you use your Triforce to make us fly or something?" Davin asked nervously, feet braced against the dashboard as Ganondorf careened them around another hairpin turn.

"What? Fly?" Ganondorf snapped. "The Triforce of Power does not grant flying abilities!"

Davin looked at him sidelong. "Are you sure? It does in my stories."

"Feh!" Ganondorf snorted dismissively. "Just because _you_ write something doesn't make it so."

Davin sighed unhappily. "Don't I know it."

"If you really had magical powers over reality through your writing machine," Ganondorf derisively went on, "you might have actually managed to get yourself a woman by now."

"Hey!" Davin objected, wincing as Ganondorf turned the truck nearly sideways as he forced his way along the mountain road, rattling the pickup down to its axles. "That is-" _bump_, "-completely uncalled-" _bump_, "-for!" _BOUNCE rattle rattle._ "Just because you're the king of-" _bump,_ "-a whole race of hot girls and have-" _KA-BOUNCE rattle rattle ominous creak!_ "-six wives does not mean you get to comment on my love life-" _KER-THUNK!_ "-or lack thereof."

Ganondorf turned on the windshield wipers against the increasingly heavy snow. "Oh, please!" he sneered. "How old are you, twenty-two? When _I_ was twenty-two, I was already on my third wife, and I'd conquered four of the neighboring desert tribes. I had three daughters and a fourth on the way when I was your age! You're honestly telling me you can't find _one_ woman willing to spend time with you?"

"Well, we can't all be- _HOLY CRAP WE'RE SLIDING!_ god-kings of a nation of beautiful- _WATCH THE BOULDER!_ warrior-women, now can we?" Davin replied.

"It's not-" _KRA-BONK!_ "-that hard," Ganondorf said, still going much too fast for the weather and road conditions. "Even that-" _SKER-PLUNK!_ "-idiot Hero manages to get two or three-" _DRA-GORNK!_ "-girls every quest."

"I'm not exactly a-" _BORKK!_ "-muscle-bound, sword-slinging-" _GRUNCHK!_ "-warrior man, now am I?" Davin said irately. He sucked in an apprehensive breath through clenched teeth. "I am _so_ glad I used the bathroom at that gas station. You are-" _SKRAKKA-BLOONGNK, SPLURCH! _"-freaking insane!"

Davin craned his neck back over his shoulder, staring, horrified, at the path behind them. "Did you just run over a goat?"

"Possibly," Ganondorf said far too calmly, maneuvering the pickup onto a slightly smoother stretch of road. "I am uncertain what it was, exactly."

"You just ran over an innocent mountain goat with my truck, you monster!" Davin exploded, waving his arms as wildly as he could in the confines of the cab. "Why would you do that?"

"It was in the way!" Ganondorf snapped defensively.

Davin glared at him. "Boy, if you had a nickel for every time you'd used _that_ as a justification..."

"Don't make me hit you again, boy!" Ganondorf threatened with a wave of his fist under Davin's nose.

"Oh, threats of violence now, is it?" Davin shouted, bracing himself as Ganondorf whipped the truck through and over a snow-drift in the middle of the road. "That's _real_ original."

"If you don't shut up right now, I'll _make_ you shut up!" Ganondorf snarled, looking over at Davin with murder in his eyes.

"Yeah, why don't you just- LOOK OUT!"

* * *

_BOUNCE!_

_SMASH!_

_roll_

_roll_

_roll_

_roll_

_roll_

_KER-THUNK!

* * *

_

Feet.

Booted feet.

Also, a sword.

A pointy one.

Above that, white pants.

Above _that,_ green.

Around all of that, white. Also gray, but mostly white.

Davin slowly blinked, holding his aching head as he dragged himself from the upside-down pickup truck. Coughing, he rolled over onto the thoroughly disturbed snow at the bottom of the gorge, one hand pressed to his ribs and another to his head.

Above him loomed decidedly unhappy blue eyes, surrounded by an equally unhappy face, which was itself surrounded by somehow unhappy-looking hair.

"Hey..." Davin said weakly, attempting a smile. "We found Link." A pause. "Hello, Link."

"Hello... bonehead."

* * *

Author's Note: More silliness. ;)

Since I am, in fact, mostly making this up as I go along to keep it spontaneous and a little random, I decided to postpone the 'costume party' jokes in favor of more road-trip shenanigans. This chapter is inspired in part both by an actual road trip I once took where I ended up taking an epic detour through Colorado due to road construction, and also by one of my uncles, who is cheerfully willing to bash his pickup over anything remotely resembling a 'road' in search of new and interesting wilderness. There's a reason I call it the 'Oh-Crap!' bar. ;)

Davin the Dark Side Comedian will return in: "Three Is A Crowd, Four Is Just Ridiculous", coming soon.


	3. Duuuuuuuuuude!

Three

('Duuuuuuuuuuude!')

Sprawled on his back next to the crumpled remains of his pickup truck, Davin Sunrider, involuntary outlaw, gazed up at the sky above the gorge, feeling the snow below him melt under his body heat and soak into his hair and clothes. He didn't feel like moving, understandably so, as he had just survived a tremendous car accident.

Of course, the extremely sharp-looking sword hovering a quarter-inch above his nose might also have had something to do with his lack of motion.

"What are you doing here?" asked the owner of the uncomfortably shiny sword, the Chosen Nuisance-er, Hero, Link. Link and Davin did not get along, mostly because Davin used to work for Ganondorf, and also because this version of Link was... shall we say... a bit dim, and Davin made no secret of the fact that he was aware of this.

"Well," Davin drawled, checking for loose teeth with his tongue, "right now, I'm trying to make sure I still have the ability to stand up. Don't want to rush into these things, you know."

"Is Ganondorf with you?" Link demanded, allowing the extremely cold tip of his sword to rest on Davin's cheek.

"More like I'm with him," Davin replied. "He's sort of dragging me along on his catastrophic cross-country crime caper."

Link narrowed his eyes at the former Dark Side Comedian. "Are you getting smart with me?" he snapped.

Davin couldn't resist. "That's hardly difficult," he replied snidely. "Do you need me to explain a few of those big words for you?"

Link replied in turn with a boot to Davin's ribs. "Where's Ganondorf?"

Davin grinned obnoxiously. "You'll have to ask me nicely."

Link kicked him again, harder.

Davin coughed and rolled over. "Well, now I wouldn't tell you even if I _did_ know. Why'd The Fangirl have to make you such a jerk, anyway?"

"To make Ganondorf more appealing as a romantic lead," Link replied automatically, then blinked in surprise. "What?"

"Making Zelda the only one of the Three who isn't a jerk," Davin said as he slowly, painfully hauled himself to his feet with the assistance of a handy pine tree. "So, of course, she's not here."

"I don't know where she is," said Link. "I haven't been looking much, though. I've been living in a cave near here ever since I was brought to this world."

"You never tried to find a town?" Davin asked curiously.

A deeply haunted look came over Link's face. He shook his head vigorously.

Davin cocked a questioning eyebrow.

"The people here are afflicted with some kind of madness," Link said quietly, looking nervously over his shoulder as he sheathed his sword. "They wander around with their hands over their ears, shouting to themselves."

Davin frowned in confusion before he realized what Link meant. "Oh, cell phones," he said. "Yeah, we do look pretty stupid, don't we?"

At a deep-voiced groan behind him, Davin turned to see Ganondorf staggering his way out of a snow-drift, in which he had apparently landed upon being thrown from the vehicle at some point during their... unorthodox descent.

Once again, Davin's inner smartass decided to get him in trouble. "That's the last time I let _you_ drive," he quipped.

Ganondorf replied by offhandedly hurling a fireball into a sensitive part of Davin's anatomy, which shut him up rather quickly.

As Davin leaped stomach-first into a deep pile of snow to one, put out the fire, and two, _put out the fire_, Ganondorf strolled over to Link, who had drawn his sword again, and just as casually kicked Link in the shin with one steel-toed boot.

"Where is the princess?" Ganondorf asked mildly, examining his fingernails as Link rolled around, groaning, on the snow and dirt, clutching his leg.

"I have no idea," Link said, giving Ganondorf a death-glare. "And I'm not saying that because I hate you and want you to die a horrible painful death; I really don't know."

Ganondorf gave him a bored look. "All right then. You're coming with us."

"No!" Link said defiantly.

Ganondorf fixed him with an impatient look for a moment before taking hold of the lapels of his leather jacket with both hands and shaking off the remaining snow with one sharp jerk. "Fine then," he said. "Stay here and live in a cave. At least you're out of my way."

Link frowned in confusion. "Why, where are you going?"

"To find Zelda," Davin said snarkily as he climbed out of the snow-drift, a giant black scorch mark across the front of his jeans. "One would think that would be obvious."

"What is your problem with me?" Link demanded.

"My _problem_ is that you're an ass," Davin replied. "Link should not be an ass. Don't get your tights in a bunch; I'm actually more irritated with the person whose imagination is responsible for you than actual you."

"You don't seem to have much of a problem with him!" Link said with a contemptuous gesture at Ganondorf.

"Okay, A, I do have a problem with him," Davin replied. "And B, he's The Freaking Dark Lord Ganondorf. 'Jerk' tends to be part of the job description with guys like him."

"It's true," Ganondorf confirmed.

Link gave him a funny look before going on. "Your vehicle is destroyed. How will we search for Zelda? She might be many days' walk from here."

"She is somewhere to the east still," Ganondorf said as he absently gestured at Davin's truck.

Davin turned to look behind himself as he heard the sound of horribly screeching metal, and turned to see his truck righting itself and the damage un-crumpling under the direction of Ganondorf, who stood with one hand extended, moving his fingers in an odd manner.

In less than a minute, Davin's truck was back to normal; even the motorcycle was repaired and again secured in the bed behind the cargo crates.

"You can do _that_, but you can't just make the truck fly?" Davin said as he walked toward the newly repaired vehicle.

"I can make it jump," Ganondorf said, half-guiding/half-dragging Link along, "but I can't make it fly."

"You and your minions fly all the time in the games!" Davin said, opening the driver's-side door and getting in. "Why can't you just magically make this a hover-truck?"

"I can't fly because flying is a stupid ability and only idiots put flying in their stories," Ganondorf said, sounding oddly like The Fangirl in the cadence of his speech. When he finished, the Dark Lord frowned to himself. "Flying is _not_ stupid," he said confusedly. "It would be very useful, actually. Why would I say such a thing?"

"I am not liking where this is going," Davin said to himself as Ganondorf tossed Link into the cab, then got in himself. Link awkwardly shifted in the middle of the bench seat, arranging his legs on either side of the shifting column.

Davin irritably shoved the hilt of Link's sword away from his head, where it had been poking him in the ear. "Watch it, pal," he grumbled. "Your Evilness, some tunes please."

As Davin slowly navigated his truck down the floor of the gorge, looking for an exit that might lead to something more closely resembling a road, Ganondorf picked up Davin's MP3 player and scrolled through it. "How about AC/DC?"

"I'm already on the highway to hell," Davin said, easing his way through a group of pine trees. "Go for it."

* * *

Several wrong turns, arguments, and air-guitar breaks later, Davin pulled the truck onto the first thing that actually resembled a road he'd seen all afternoon. It was just before dark, the special kind of twilight that threatened to plunge into darkness at any minute, probably just when you really needed to see where you were going.

As the headlights illuminated a large white sign mounted on one of the trees along the road, Davin squinted at it. "Can either of you two see what that says?"

"It's not in Hylian," Link said, reaching for the volume knob on Davin's stereo yet again.

Ganondorf whacked his hand away. "Rock and Roll ain't noise pollution," he growled, quoting the song that was currently playing.

"What?" Link said confusedly.

"Try to turn my music down again, you're a dead man," Davin translated. He slowed to a stop next to the sign. "Toasted Sunrise Commune," he read. "Great. Hippies."

"Hippies?" Ganondorf inquired.

"You don't have them in Hyrule," Davin replied. "I think."

"What's a toasted sunrise?" asked Link.

Davin looked down at the gas gauge, which was dangerously close to 'Empty'. "I guess we're going to find out," he said. "It's either this or go back to your cave."

After a few minutes, they came upon a loose conglomerate of tents, tepees, and lean-tos in the midst of a wide forest clearing. A huge bonfire illuminated the center of the clearing, around which were dancing a large number of semi-clothed individuals, most of whom had long hair.

Several other people played a pounding, almost tribal beat on an assortment of drums, while more played flutes and two or three played guitars. Oddly enough, it didn't sound half bad mixed with the AC/DC still blaring from the pickup's speakers.

"We've got people like this in Hyrule," Ganondorf said, watching the under-the-influence reveling outside. "We call them 'weirdos'."

"Hey, man," said a young man with long hair and a purposefully untrimmed beard, wearing a hooded sweatshirt, jeans, and sandals. "You dudes lost or something?"

"Yeah!" Davin shouted over the music blaring both outside and inside his truck.

"Cool," the young man replied passively. "Dude's cookin' hot dogs over there if you want some."

Davin shrugged and pulled the truck off to the side, under one of the larger trees. "Better weirdos with guitars than weirdos with guns," he said, turning off the engine. "I'm starving! Let's go find that hot dog guy."

"Is this some sort of cult?" Link asked dubiously as they got out of the truck.

"I doubt it," Davin said. He tapped the Chosen Nuisance on the shoulder. "You might want to leave that in the truck," he said, rapping a knuckle against the hilt of Link's sword.

As Link put his weapons back in the cab of the pickup, Ganondorf came around to stand next to Davin. "Are we going to be all right here?" he asked.

Davin shrugged. "As long as we don't smoke anything, sure." His eyes widened as he noticed Link accept a brownie from a passing woman with a plate of them. "Don't eat that!" he warned.

His warning was too late; Link took a large bite of the brownie, shoving the rest of it in his mouth a moment later. "What?" he said with his mouth full as Davin approached.

Davin had a very Ganondorf-ish thought just then. "Uh, never mind," he said. "You wanted to know what a toasted sunrise was, after all."

"NO, you may _not_ touch my beard!" Ganondorf snapped loudly behind them.

Davin turned to see him slap away the hand of a giggling young man. "You are sooooooo tall!" the young man exclaimed, leaning backwards to look up at Ganondorf. He promptly fell over, but reacted only by laughing harder.

"Whoa!" Link suddenly said next to Davin. "I can... I can _see_ your hair growing. Like, right now it just grew! Whoa, it did it again!"

Davin shoved away Link's curious hand. "What the hell was in that brownie?"

"I don't know," Link said slowly, staring intently at the back of his hand. "But it was _awesome!_" He suddenly turned, then turned again, quickly spinning in a complete circle. "Where can I get another one?"

Just as rapidly, he grabbed Davin's shoulders and leaned uncomfortably close. "The pores in your nose are like the _stars_, man!" he exclaimed, eyes wide. "Except they're not as bright. And probably smaller."

Davin placed one hand on Link's forehead and shoved him backwards, sharply. "Maybe coming here wasn't the best idea."

"What's that thing on your forehead?" Davin heard a young woman ask Ganondorf.

"It signifies my status as king of the Gerudo," Ganondorf replied.

"Whoa, dude!" the young woman said. "You're like, a king and stuff?"

"I am called the King of Evil by some," Ganondorf said. Davin thought he heard a hint of bragging in the Dark Lord's tone.

"Duuuude," the young woman said appreciatively. "That is _so_ badass. You want to go back to my tent?"

Davin started walking away very fast, hands over his ears. "I didn't hear that, I didn't hear that, I did _not_ hear that," he repeated to himself desperately, stumbling over rocks and passed-out hippies in his haste to get away.

Eventually, he found himself angrily munching a hot dog next to the hot dog guy, who was, as was to be expected from his moniker, set up with several packages of hot dogs and buns next to a small charcoal grill. The hot dog guy, the one man here besides Link without facial hair of some sort, was also the most lucid-seeming, probably because perception-altering substances and fire are not a good combination.

"So what's your deal, dude?" the hot dog guy asked Davin, rotating a few of the franks with his stick.

"I'm on the road trip from hell," Davin said, swiping crumbs out of his beard. "The big guy is looking for a princess he hauled here but then lost track of, along with the guy who should be my one friend in all of this, but, in keeping with the comic tragedy that is my current life situation, is actually more hostile to me than the big guy, who is no less than a card-carrying Dark Lord."

The hot dog guy nodded sagely. "That's some heavy stuff, dude," he said. "'Nother hot dog?"

"Sure," said Davin, accepting the proffered bun.

He took a large bite, half-heatedly looking around for his companions. Ganondorf was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Link. Davin felt he should be worried about this, but felt even more strongly that right now he didn't care.

"This princess chick," said the hot dog guy. "Why's the big guy looking for her?"

Davin decided a hippie was the one person he could possibly meet that might actually believe him. "She's got one-third of a powerful magical artifact called the Triforce. The big guy, his name is Ganondorf, and the other guy, his name is Link, have the other two. Ganondorf wants to put all three pieces together so he can conquer the world."

"Bitchin'," said the hot dog guy with an impressed grin. "It's like you're living in a really kick-ass movie, dude."

"Yeah," Davin said dryly. "You should hear the soundtrack."

"You tryin' to stop this Ganondorf dude or help him?" the hot dog guy asked.

Davin crammed the rest of the hot dog in his mouth and munched thoughtfully. "I'm not sure," he said. "On the one hand, he's a jerk. But on the other hand, we're actually more alike than I like to think about. If he'd quit lighting me on fire and threatening to kill me, we might actually get along."

"What about this Link dude?" said the hot dog guy. "What's he like?"

Just then, Link ran past them, shirtless and smeared with mud. "I am the Lizalfos King!" the Hero bellowed, leaping dramatically atop a fallen tree. He pushed his muddy hands through his even more muddy hair, leaving it standing up in odd directions. "I can do ANYTHING!"

With that, he hurled himself into a back-flip over the tree, landing out of sight with a tremendous crash.

"Ow."

Davin exchanged a glance with the hot dog guy. The hot dog guy reached down to the cooler sitting next to him and came back up with a plate.

"Brownie, dude?"

Davin looked back to the fallen tree, from behind which Link was now emerging. He had removed his pants, and now wore them on his head, pumping his arms in the air as he ran back into the main clearing, whooping wordlessly. Thankfully, he still wore what appeared to be bright green boxer shorts.

"No, I'm good."

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks to Silverwolf05 for the idea of meeting hippies in the forest, and also a better explanation for where Zelda is than the one I'd thought of, which I'll be using in a future chapter. Also, drugs are bad, mmkay? Don't do drugs, 'cause drugs are bad. Mmkay? ;)

Davin the Dark Side Comedian will return in, "If You Put Your Pants Back On, I Might Let You Have Your Sword," coming soon.


	4. Pants On Your Head, Pants On Your Head

Four

('Lookin' Like A Fool With Your Pants On Your Head')

The early-morning sun streamed down through the trees, softly draping a clearing that was usually a peaceful meadow in gentle radiance.

Davin Sunrider, involuntary outlaw, shifted in his sleep, in the final phases of a pleasant dream before he finally had to wake up. He felt the warm rays of the sun upon his face, and in his sleep, he smiled.

Then he felt something move on his stomach and was jolted back to the cold, cruel world.

Davin slowly, carefully opened his eyes and raised his head, looking down at his stomach. On his stomach was a foot.

A_ man's_ foot. One that was bare and covered entirely with mud.

Davin's eyes hesitantly followed the line of the leg, also covered with mud, up to a pair of bright green boxer shorts, and then onward up an equally mud-smeared torso to the peacefully sleeping face of the Chosen Hero Link, who still had his pants on his head.

Moving only his head, Davin looked around the clearing at the hippie camp in which he, Link, and Ganondorf had stopped last night after running out of gas. The bonfire was out but still smoking, and around it were an array of passed-out partyers, some in sleeping bags, some just zonked out on the ground.

Davin rolled over, allowing Link's leg to drop to the ground, and for the second time in twenty-four hours, slowly and painfully used a pine tree to haul himself upright. He looked down with distaste at his mud-smeared T-shirt beneath his green plaid flannel shirt, and contemptuously flicked some of the mud back at its owner.

Link snorted in his sleep and rolled over, but did not wake up. Davin suspected he would be sleeping for a while yet, judging from his activities last night. In case Link didn't remember, Davin was definitely more than happy to remind him. He was only sorry he didn't have a video camera.

"I wonder if I can get any coffee around here that _isn't_ spiked with something," Davin muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair and yawning. He attempted to smooth down his unruly beard next, but gave up upon realizing he'd already put more effort into personal grooming than anyone else here.

Davin picked his way through the remnants of last night's bonfire shindig-or whatever the hippies called it-and looked for his other unwanted traveling companion.

As expected, Davin located the Dark Lord quickly. More specifically, he located Ganondorf's gigantic feet, which, along with part of his legs, protruded a full foot and a half out of a small tent near the bonfire.

Davin briefly considered waking Ganondorf up, but then decided not to, on the grounds that he probably didn't want to see what else was in the tent.

Moving on, Davin staggered off to his dark blue pickup, which had miraculously escaped unharmed. Two pairs of feet were visible between the rear tires, but that was it.

"And that is why you always lock your doors, children," Davin said to himself, fumbling in his pocket for his keys. "So that people with the munchies don't raid your junk food stash."

As he unlocked his truck door, Davin realized he was the first person to wake up, probably because he was very likely the sole individual in the forest camp that had not indulged in a perception-altering substance last night. He climbed inside, leaving the door open so as not to make noise.

Davin grabbed a package of beef jerky from under his seat, ripped it open, and munched thoughtfully as he looked at the forest through his windshield and open door. It actually was quite pretty here; he could see why the hippies had chosen this spot.

At the sound of someone with a very deep voice yawning behind him, Davin turned to see Ganondorf standing a few feet away, stretching as he leisurely approached.

"Aah! Cannot unsee!" Davin exclaimed, quickly turning his head away; Ganondorf was 'at one with nature'.

"Good morning," the Dark Lord said amiably, stopping next to the truck. "Any more of that left?"

"Dude," Davin said, covering his eyes with one hand, "could you _please_ stand on the other side of the door? Please?"

When he dared to peek through his fingers, Ganondorf had complied, and was now reaching through the door's open window, his hand held out for the package of beef jerky. Davin handed it to him, never so glad in his life his truck had solid steel doors. _Opaque_ steel doors.

"I'm glad we stopped here," Ganondorf said with a grin as he reached into the package.

"Yeah, I bet you are," Davin grumbled. "Have you gotten a better fix on where Zelda is yet?"

"That way," said Ganondorf, pointing with the hand holding the jerky while he scratched his hairy chest with the other. "Perhaps another day's journey, if we do not get lost."

Davin consulted his map. "That'd put her somewhere in Missouri or Illinois, I think." He looked up at Ganondorf, careful to hold the map between them. "Can you be more specific?"

"Let me see that," Ganondorf said, taking the map. He stared intently at it for a moment, calculating distance, then looked back up at the forest in the direction he had indicated, and then looked back at the map. "Here," he said, tapping the map with one finger.

Davin looked where he was pointing. "Chicago," he said. "Okay then. Now we know where we're going besides 'east somewhere' finally. You're sure?"

Ganondorf looked at the map again. "I am sure," he said with finality. "Once we are closer, I will be able to locate her more accurately."

"You've never been able to do this in any of the games I've played," Davin said suspiciously. "Why can you suddenly know exactly where the other Bearers are now?"

Ganondorf shrugged. "It's convenient to the plot."

"Plot of what?" Davin said, surprised

"My plot to seize the Triforce," said Ganondorf. "Besides, I _have_ always been able to do this. If I just wanted to find Link and kill him, I would. It's actually both more convenient and more amusing to just let him come to me. My minions and I enjoy watching him struggle through the dungeons."

"Especially ol' Pants-On-His-Head over there," Davin said, gesturing off toward where Link still dozed on the ground. "I imagine he doesn't get many things right on the first try."

Ganondorf adopted a teasing grin, reaching through the door to lay a giant hand on Davin's arm. "And yet, he still manages to get more girls than you."

"Oh, shut up and go find your pants!"

* * *

About an hour later, Davin got tired of waiting and strolled over to Link.

"Hey, Sleeping Dummy!" Davin said, kicking his foot. "Wake up already!"

Link snorted and suddenly sat up. His trousers slipped down over his nose, completely covering his head. "I don't want to alarm you," Link said slowly, "but I think I've gone blind."

Davin decided to amuse himself. "Pants on your head," he sang to the tune of a similarly themed song. "Pants on your head. Lookin' like a fool with your pants on your head!"

Link reached up to his face, and, upon encountering his trousers, yanked them away. "Oh," he said, embarrassed. He looked around, confusion passing across his bleary face. "Where's my sword?"

"If you put your pants on, I might let you have it back," Davin replied. "But until I'm sure you're no longer under the influence of any mind-altering substances, I think it's best if we don't let you have weapons."

"That's probably a good idea," said Ganondorf, whose pants were, thankfully, neither on his head nor on the ground, but right where they were supposed to be. He still had yet to put on his shirt, but Davin was likely the only one unhappy with this.

"Where's that damned 'squee'-ing coming from?" Davin demanded irritably of thin air.

Thin air, being, as it was, thin air, did not reply.

Davin scoffed and irritably stalked off to find someone who would give him a gallon or two of gas.

* * *

Later, when they were on the road again, Davin sat with one hand on the wheel of his truck, the other arm resting in the window frame, and sang along to the Metallica song pounding from the speakers.

Link, sitting miserably between Davin and Ganondorf, reached for the stereo controls yet again, and was again blocked by Ganondorf, who was also singing along, since he knew this one.

"Can you please turn this down?" Link said, cradling his head. "I've got such a headache right now..."

"No," said Davin. "_I'm_ not the one who didn't listen to me and ate that brownie and spent the night stoned out of his mind running around howling at the moon." He bobbed his head to the music for a moment, then looked back over at Link. "Besides, this could be your theme song." He looked the Chosen Nuisance over and frowned. "Well, a much cooler version of you, anyway."

"Of wolf!" sang Ganondorf, ignoring both of them. "...and man!"

"Sing it, evil man!" Davin enthused, throwing up the metal horns with his other hand. As they cruised on down the highway, he and Ganondorf indulged in a bit of head-banging in time to the music.

When he glanced up to see Link with his hands pressed over his ears, Davin laughed. "And you wonder why people keep going over to the Dark Side."

* * *

"Man, Kansas is boring!" Davin observed some hours later as they passed, big surprise, _another_ cornfield. "Where's the mountains?"

"It is somewhat disconcerting to be able to see this far without seeing anything of note," Ganondorf agreed.

"It's too flat!" Davin went on. "And where's the trees? There's nothing here but corn!"

"What's wrong with corn?" Link said a tad defensively.

"Nothing; it's delicious," said Davin. "I'm just used to being able to see something in the distance besides... more nothing."

"Well, maybe someone who lives in Kansas wouldn't appreciate you describing their home as 'boring'!" Link argued. "What's so exciting about where _you_ live?"

Davin considered this for a moment. "Nothing, really," he allowed. "Just exchange sagebrush for corn and mountains for nothing, and it's pretty much the same."

"Well all right then!" Link said peevishly.

Davin glanced over at him. "Is there a particular reason you're so grumpy today?" He looked back up at the road, then back at Link. "Or does this have something to do with Ganondorf making you ride in the back through the rest of Colorado?"

"It was cold!" Link exclaimed. "And you guys didn't let me find my shirt before we left the hippies!"

"Dude, your shirt was long gone," Davin replied. "Just be glad I managed to talk you out of burning your pants last night, too."

"You could at least give me something besides this!" Link said, pulling at the loaned T-shirt he was wearing.

"Hey, man, you got mud on it," said Davin. "It's yours now."

"Will you two shut up?" Ganondorf growled, leaning his head back on his seat. "I'm trying to sleep here."

"How can you sleep through this rack-" Link began before Davin gave him a warning look. "Er, lovely music?"

"I've been fighting wars since I was fourteen," said Ganondorf. "This is relaxing to me."

"That may be the very first time I've ever heard anyone describe Epica as 'relaxing'," Davin said amusedly.

* * *

Most of Kansas later, they decided to stop for the night at an interesting-looking roadside motel. Apparently, a metal-working artist lived there, because a large number of welded farm equipment-turned sculptures decorated the side of the turn off the highway and the area around the motel. Davin was particularly impressed with a set of harvester blades that had been reshaped into an eagle, its outstretched wings beckoning them to the waiting white and blue building.

As Davin pulled the truck into the parking lot, the white-haired older man behind the desk waved to them from behind the office windows. Davin waved back as he eased the truck to a stop.

"Lot of cars here," Davin observed. "I hope they still have a few rooms left."

"I'll make sure we are granted accommodations," Ganondorf said, shrugging back into his leather jacket as they crossed the parking lot.

Davin stepped in front of him. "Could we please go one day without committing a felony?" he pleaded. "I really don't think it's necessary to terrorize this guy, do you?"

"You're paying for it, then," Ganondorf said as they neared the office.

"There's a shocker," Davin muttered under his breath.

"How're you doin', fellas?" the motel owner said amiably as the three of them came inside the office. His shoulder-length white hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and a goatee framed his mouth, surrounded by laugh lines. He extended a hand over the counter to Davin. "Name's Jerry."

"Davin," the young writer replied. "That's Link, and... Gary." He turned back to Jerry. "Got any rooms left?"

"Pleasure to meet you," said Jerry. "Sorry, just one, and it's a single-bed."

There was little dispute about who would be getting the bed; Ganondorf took the key from Jerry and headed out of the office.

Jerry gestured over his shoulder with a thumb. "I've got an old army cot in the back, but just the one. Sorry, but one of you two's gonna have to sleep on the floor."

"Not it!" Davin said, but a half-second too late; Link beat him to it.

"How do _you_ know 'not it'?" Davin demanded incredulously.

Link scoffed. "Everyone knows 'not it'," he said. "Don't like it, sleep in your truck, Glasses Fish."

Davin heaved a long-suffering sigh and reached for his wallet.

* * *

The next day, Ganondorf drove the rest of the way through Kansas and most of Missouri, and managed to restrain himself to magically/explosively disabling just two other vehicles, one of which was a motorcycle cop who furnished a replacement for the mirrored sunglasses Ganondorf had misplaced back in the hippie encampment. Davin fumed from the passenger seat, but, as usual, could do little other than complain and silently thank whatever force governed his life that the Dark Lord still hadn't killed anyone yet.

Davin nodded off at some point in Missouri, and when the truck slowing to a rather abrupt stop woke him up, it was dark outside and the glowing lights of skyscraper windows and streetlights told him they were in a city.

"Where are we?" he mumbled sleepily.

"Chicago," Ganondorf replied. "Zelda is very close by."

As he put his glasses back on, Davin looked around some more and recognized one of the few Chicago landmarks he knew. "Hey, it's that mirror-bean thingy. Let's go take a picture!"

"No," Ganondorf replied. "We need to find Zelda."

"Oh, look," Davin said snarkily. "We're doing what _Ganondorf_ wants to do. How incredibly un-freaking-precedented."

"Be quiet, or I'll make you ride in the back with Link," Ganondorf growled.

Davin looked over his shoulder through the back window at Link, who was huddled against Ganondorf's motorcycle with the hood of the green sweatshirt they'd bought him in a store in Missouri cinched tight around his face, only his nose and eyes visible.

Ganondorf drove purposefully through the streets, grumbling at occasional traffic, while Davin made the best of the situation and gawked at the big-city lights. A country boy through-and-through, he spent little time in large cities, and while he didn't want to live in one, he did enjoy the occasional visit.

Finally, they slowed to a stop in what appeared to be the fashion district, judging by the large number of stores with huge windows displaying a staggering variety of clothing. Even this late at night, the sidewalks flowed with people of all sizes, shapes, and colors.

Literally all colors; Davin watched a man who was bright orange from head to toe walk nonchalantly past the truck, idly talking to a woman who was similarly dressed and painted neon blue. No one else on the sidewalk spared them a second glace, and the man gave Davin a 'What are _you_ looking at?' look when he saw him staring.

"She's in there," Ganondorf said, pointing to a shop down the block. "She has been in that building all day; I suspect she works there."

Davin eyed the high-end boutique thoughtfully, then looked back over at the Dark Lord. "They are never going to let the three of us into a place like that. Especially you, Baron Von Biker-Brute. They'll trip the silent alarm the second you walk in, for sure."

"Then we will wait here, and follow Zelda back to wherever she stays the night," Ganondorf said, leaning forward over the wheel as he looked through the boutique's windows for the princess.

"Yeah, 'cause _that_ won't look suspicious," Davin said dryly. "Three scruffy men in a pickup following a pretty young woman through the fashion district at night. No one will _ever_ think _we're_ up to something."

Ganondorf pointed as a young woman emerged from the boutique and started down the sidewalk. "There she is."

It took Davin a moment, but as he looked closer, he recognized Princess Zelda. She wore modern, fashionable clothing under a long dark red coat, and her hair was subtly arranged to cover the tops of her pointed ears, but it was definitely her. She idly glanced in their direction, but gave no sign of having spotted them before continuing onward.

Ganondorf started the truck and eased out of the parking space, slowly following Zelda as she headed for a bus stop a few blocks away.

"What did you do with your day, today, Davin?" the young writer sarcastically asked himself. "Well, Davin, I helped a formerly fictional Dark Lord stalk and probably kidnap a princess, adding another 'accessory' charge to my already-impressive arrest warrant." He put on a sarcastically cheerful smile. "I'm going to be shot on sight by every cop in the city!"

"Quiet," growled Ganondorf. "And tell the idiot in the back to stay down."

Davin sighed as he rolled down his window. "This isn't going to end well..."

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks to Silverwolf05 for the suggestion that Zelda be the only one of the Three to perfectly blend in and work in fashion; it both made more sense and created more opportunities for jokes than my original idea. I'll have more fun with that next chapter. Also thanks to all the readers and reviewers; it's great to know you're having as much fun with this as I am.

Davin the Dark Side Comedian will return in, "You Have The Right To Remain Silent, Your Evilness," coming soon.


	5. Something's Fishy Here

Five

('Something's Fishy Here...')

Davin Sunrider, involuntary outlaw, sat in the passenger seat of his pickup and for the third time in twice as many minutes, heaved a frustrated sigh. "I still think this is a bad idea," he grumbled.

"And I'm still going to toss you in the back with Link if you don't be quiet," replied the formerly fictional Dark Lord Ganondorf. "We're going, and that's final."

Davin frowned to himself, watching the back of the bus they were following through the streets of Chicago, three cars back. On this bus was Princess Zelda, finally located after several days of the most bizarre road trip Davin had yet experienced. Ganondorf's intention, he assumed, was to transport them all back to Hyrule after he kidnapped the princess. Though he enjoyed an occasional adventure there, Davin did not particularly want to live in the Golden Kingdom again, particularly during the reign of a Dark Lord. His last experience had been more than enough for him.

"I think perhaps I shall run for office here," Ganondorf said suddenly, alarming Davin.

"What?" he spluttered in surprise.

Ganondorf glanced over at him as they stopped for a red light. "I'll start with something small, like perhaps governor of this state, and in two years I shall run for President of this country. I think I could accomplish great things with a nation like this."

"Well, you could hardly do worse than the last governor of Illinois, that Blago-what's-his-name, but there's not an election for a while," Davin said. "And secondly, I would really appreciate you not turning America into a dictatorship. I shudder to think what you could do in command of a nuclear arsenal."

"Oh, come now," Ganondorf said with a grin. "I'd put an end to all this bickering between the two major parties of your government; I'd just kill them all and command everyone to do as _I_ say."

Davin glanced at him sidelong. "As tempting as that is, I still think I prefer democracy."

"Come on, Sunrider," Ganondorf said, apparently in jest, "join Team Ganondorf; enact some _real_ 'Change' for once!"

Davin sighed. "I should have never let you use the Internet..."

"The bus is stopping," Ganondorf observed. "Is she getting off?"

Davin recognized Zelda as she stepped off the bus, and was tempted to say 'no' so they would keep going, but knew Ganondorf would be able to tell he was lying. "Yes," he said resignedly.

Ganondorf pulled off to the side of the street and leaned over the steering wheel, watching as Zelda walked over to a residential building, nodded in greeting to the doorman, and went inside.

"Excellent!" the Dark Lord said to himself. "Now we just need to find a way to get inside without attracting attention from the neighbors."

"Yeah, 'cause the three of us are _so_ good at that," Davin said dryly.

"We will wait a few minutes," said Ganondorf, ignoring him, "and then you will go over and ask the building's guard which apartment is Zelda's. You will say you are her cousin and are going to surprise her for her birthday."

"Boyfriend would make more sense," Davin said. "A family member would already know where she lives."

Ganondorf took one look at him and burst into laughter. "Boyfriend! You?" he exclaimed, then laughed harder, thumping his forehead against the top of the steering wheel. He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "Thank you, Sunrider; I needed that."

_"I_ certainly didn't," Davin grumbled indignantly, smoothing down his beard as he opened his door and got out. He walked to the bed of the pickup and poked Link in the shoulder. "Hey, dummy, get in the cab; I'm going to be gone for a few minutes."

Davin pulled his jacket tighter around himself as a chill wind blew down the street, and hunched his neck into his collar, wishing he'd brought a hat. As he walked, he considered what he could say, how he could act in order not to give himself away as a creep. He felt bad about being part of a kidnapping, but knew he would feel worse-physically, anyway-if he bungled Ganondorf's plan. A man who was known to fry his employees with lightning bolts and fireballs merely for annoying him would doubtless not appreciate his bait allowing his victim to escape.

He waved to the doorman as he approached. "Hey there," he said amiably. "Could you let me in, please? My cousin Zelda lives here."

The doorman gave him a no-nonsense frown, clearly not believing him. "What's your name?" he said gruffly. "I'll call her to let her know you're here," he went on, holding up a cell phone.

"My name is Davin," the young writer said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Cold out here," he remarked.

The doorman glared at him again, but dialed a number on his phone. "Miss Nohansen?" he said after a moment. "There's a young man here who says he's your cousin." He paused, listening. "Davin," he said a moment later. The doorman looked up at one of the third-floor windows as the curtain drew back to reveal Zelda's face, and he pointed to Davin.

Zelda pulled the curtain closed again, and the doorman, said, "Yes, Miss Nohansen," before hanging up and putting his phone back in his pocket. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Go on up. She's in 3-C."

"Thanks, dude," Davin said with a smile he did not feel. He headed on into the lobby, which was decorated with several works of modern art, painted in subdued colors that subtly indicated affluence. The lobby seemed to say that the building was home to those who were fairly well-off but weren't obnoxious about it.

Once in the elevator, Davin's smile vanished. He sighed through his teeth, leaning back against the wall. His mood remained black as he got off on the third floor and walked down the hall, stopping in front of apartment 3-C.

When he became aware of a shadow at the edge of his vision, he glanced to the side and shouted in surprise when he saw Ganondorf standing there, nonchalantly glancing back at him through his mirrored sunglasses, his hands in the side pockets of his leather jacket.

"How did you get in here?" Davin said, holding a hand over his wildly beating heart.

"I have a tracking spell on you," Ganondorf replied. "It was a simple matter to use you as an anchor point for teleportation."

Davin frowned. "That explains why you kept finding me whenever I'd run away."

Ganondorf reached past him to knock on Zelda's door. "My thanks for your assistance, Sunrider," he said with a disturbing grin. "I'd have had a harder time of it by myself."

"Don't mention it," Davin sighed. "_Please._"

Ganondorf frowned and looked over his shoulder just before the door opened, revealing Princess Zelda, dressed in a white blouse and dark skirt, her expression resigned.

"I expected you would show up eventually," she said. Her resigned expression turned to a triumphant smirk as she opened the door the rest of the way, revealing a man in a dark trench coat, a gun in his hand aimed directly between Ganondorf's eyes. "Which would be why I called Agent Peters when I realized you were following me."

"Don't move," Agent Peters said warningly, reaching into his coat for a pair of handcuffs. "I've got thirty more FBI agents and SWAT troopers in the other apartments on this floor alone."

"Is that so?" Ganondorf said mildly, reaching up to take off his sunglasses.

"Put your hands on your head and turn around," Agent Peters said, his gun not moving a millimeter.

Ganondorf placed his sunglasses in the lapel pocket of his jacket, then abruptly shoved Davin through the door into Agent Peters. Peters swept Davin aside with one hand, bringing his gun back up to Ganondorf, but by that point the Dark Lord had already teleported away.

Peters ducked out into the hall, looking around. "Cuff him!" he said with a wave at Davin as he ran down the hall, looking for where Ganondorf had gone.

An FBI agent in full body armor knelt on Davin's spine and twisted his wrists up until they met his shoulder blades, a distinctly uncomfortable position. "Ow," Davin said into the floor of Zelda's living room.

"Shut up," the FBI agent snarled, clicking the handcuffs far too tight. "You're under arrest." As he hauled Davin to his feet, he went on. "You do _not_ have the right to remain silent. Any information you have that might be of use to us will be waterboarded out of you at our convenience."

"That's not how the cops on TV read people their rights," Davin said as the agent shoved him down the hall.

"It's the 21st century," said the FBI agent. "Deal with it, Glasses Fish."

Davin did a double take. "What did you call me?"

The FBI agent's reply was to whack Davin on the back of the head with his gun.

* * *

When Davin finally awoke, his head ached, and his first impulse was to bring his hands up to massage it. However, the handcuffs shackling him to the interrogation table made that somewhat difficult. He blearily looked down at his hands, and saw that the chain connecting the handcuffs passed through a metal loop bolted to the table.

Across the table, Agent Peters sat in the other chair, his jacket off. A grim man with closely trimmed dark hair, Peters wore a black suit and a white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He also wore a blue necktie, a shoulder holster, and a glare.

A young man standing next to him holding a drinking glass suddenly stepped forward and threw its contents-astoundingly cold ice-water-into Davin's face.

"Jenkins, you idiot!" Peters snapped. "He's already awake!"

"I thought that's what it was for!" Jenkins said indignantly.

Peters pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. "It's for him to _drink,_ you nincompoop!"

"Okay, first of all, this guy's a suspected terrorist," said Jenkins. "He's lucky he's not upside-down in a bucket of this stuff. And secondly, 'nincompoop'? Who still says 'nincompoop', Bob?"

"_I_ do," snapped Peters. "Go get another one, Leeroy."

"Your name is Leeroy?" Davin said in surprised amusement, blinking water out of his eyes. He was unable to help himself: "Leeeeeeerroooooyyy... _JEN_KINS!"

"Shut up, you!" growled Jenkins. He turned to Peters. "I _told_ you, my name is Terence."

"It says 'Leeroy' on your ID, _Leeroy,_" Peters said, glaring at him.

Jenkins stormed out of the interrogation room, muttering to himself, "Damned Internet..."

"Make sure you get some chicken!" Davin called after him, laughing.

"Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in?" Peters said. He picked up a file from one side of the table and slapped it down dramatically in front of Davin. "This is our file on you; I have enough to send you to jail right now just on what we can _prove_ you and your friends have done. Then there's this nasty little 'terrorism' charge my superiors want to lay on you for some of your more interesting Internet activity."

"Watching YouTube counts as terrorism now?" Davin said confusedly. "I know some of the commenters can get pretty rude, but..."

"You better get serious, smartass!" Peters shouted across the table. "We've been tracking your computer ever since we got a hit on a tracked website with instructions on how to build pipe bombs!"

"Bombs?" Davin spluttered. "What are you talking about?"

"Our tracking program has proved that not only have you been looking for ways to build IEDs," Peters said, "but that you've also used your credit card to purchase the materials! What are you planning to blow up?"

"Ganondorf!" Davin said between clenched teeth.

"Who's Ganondorf?" Peters said, leaning across the table. "You kill him, you get your virgins, huh? Is that how it goes?"

"Okay, slow down there, buddy," Davin said. "One, I'm not a terrorist. Two, Ganondorf is the name of the guy who did all that stuff with my computer. He's the big guy you're trying to catch."

"He's the one who was going to help you kidnap the Nohansen girl?" Peters demanded.

"You've got it backwards," said Davin. "_He_ kidnapped _me_, and he was making me help him kidnap Zelda, too."

"I see how it is," Peters said, straightening. "You made friends with this 'Ganondorf' fellow over the Internet, and in return for helping him blow up his target, he was going to kidnap the woman you're stalking for you." He scowled at Davin. "You make me sick!"

"I'm not stalking anybody!" Davin exclaimed. "I'm a victim here!"

"Sure you are!" Peters sneered derisively. "That's what they all say. If it was up to me, we'd be able to just shoot creep-os like you!"

"Well then, it's a good thing it's _not_ up to you, isn't it?" Davin said. "Especially considering that I didn't do anything! How many times do I have to tell you I got kidnapped by Ganondorf?" He paused. "And since when do forty-five-year-old FBI agents say 'creep-o'?"

"Shut up, Glasses Fish!" snapped Agent Peters.

"There it is again!" Davin exclaimed. "Why do you keep calling me that?"

"'Cause you look like a big, ugly trout with glasses!" Peters replied, the cadence of his speech unnervingly like that of a certain teenage girl.

Davin frowned, then suddenly turned his head to look above and behind himself. "A-ha!" he said triumphantly at what he saw there.

What he saw there was a girl sitting upon a chair-like cloud, a laptop in her lap and a startled look on her face.

"Uh-oh," said The Fangirl.

* * *

Author's Note: I intended to make a few more jokes about Zelda's job, but all that became irrelevant in the course of writing this chapter when the story decided to go somewhere else. This is what happens when you let someone with ADD improvise a humor fic. ;) Thanks again to all the reviewers!

Davin the Dark Side Comedian will return in, "Check Your Totem, Glasses Fish", coming soon.


	6. Whose Dream Is This, Anyway?

Six

('Whose Dream Is This, Anyway?')

Davin Sunrider, involuntary outlaw, sat in the cold metal chair in the cold metal interrogation room and stared up at something one did not often see in interrogation rooms; a girl sitting in a cloud-chair with a laptop, staring back at him.

This girl, known only to Davin as The Fangirl, was apparently surprised that he could see her. This did not even begin to compare to Davin's surprise that she was there.

"What the _crap_ is going on?" Davin demanded of The Fangirl. "Am I_ still_ in your imagination?"

"Technically, we're in _your_ imagination," she replied. "Which is, in turn, in _my_ imagination. It's like that movie 'Inception', except not as good, and it doesn't make as much sense because you're an idiot."

"Wait, what?" Davin exclaimed, trying vainly to get up from the table. Agent Peters stood frozen on the other side of the table, as a result of The Fangirl's reality-bending laptop. One finger pointed threateningly at Davin. Davin's attempt to get up jarred him slightly, but he did not otherwise move.

The Fangirl sighed impatiently. "Here's how it works, Glasses Fish: Somehow you managed to get yourself into my imagination through my self-insert ZelGan story. We both know how that went. However, when you had your little hissy fit and tried to get out, you just managed to wrench yourself into your own subconscious or imagination or whatever, and you're still in my head driving me crazy with all your lunacy."

"My imagination..." Davin said slowly. "So this really _is_ all a dream?"

The Fangirl sighed again. "And the Captain Obvious award goes to..."

"Don't make fun of me," Davin groused. "I just found out I hallucinated the last three months of my life." He paused. "Actually, someone else hallucinated the last three months of my life. That's somehow worse."

"Yes," said The Fangirl. "You're stuck in your own overactive imagination, which is in turn contained in _my_ imagination. Thusly, I've been having a heck of a lot of fun screwing with you on this road trip thing."

"'Thusly'?" Davin said in dubious amusement.

"Shut up," she replied. "Now, since this is your imagination, I don't have total control here, but I have enough that I can mess with you really good. You're responsible for Zelda calling the cops, because in your mind she's smart enough to know that where you go, Ganondorf isn't far behind." She smirked. "_I,_ however, am responsible for Agent Peters here; I discovered I can control him, and if I have anything to say about it, you're going to what you imagine Guantanamo is like."

"You're just _SCREWING_ with me?" Davin demanded incredulously. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

The Fangirl shrugged. "I can't get you out of my head, so I figured I might as well have some fun."

"You think this is funny?" Davin shouted.

"I think this is _very_ funny," she replied, grinning obnoxiously.

"I think you're a horrible person!" Davin snapped back. "I can't believe this!" He jerked at his handcuffs again, vainly trying to free himself. "Why couldn't I get stuck in a nice, normal, non-psychotic girl's head? There are plenty of _those_ out there. No, I have go and get trapped in the imagination of a sadistic wacko like you!"

"Have you ever considered the possibility that you're just a figment of my imagination?" The Fangirl said. "Maybe you're a fictional version of the real Davin Sunrider, and maybe I don't like him so I've decided to torture you here in your imagination in my imagination."

"In that scenario, which of us is the crazy person?" Davin said confusedly.

"_Or_," The Fangirl went on, "maybe _I'm_ a figment of _your_ imagination, and you're ultimately torturing _yourself_."

"Whoa, existential," said Davin.

"I told you that word doesn't mean what you think it means," said The Fangirl. "Me being a figment of your imagination would explain a lot, actually; you're really screwed up, you know that?"

"I knew that already," snapped Davin. "Several psychologists went crazy themselves trying to figure out exactly what's wrong with me."

The Fangirl raised an eyebrow. "Why does that somehow not surprise me?"

"Well, if you're really me, then of course you'd know that," Davin pointed out. "But if you're really a separate person, then you're just a jerk."

"_You're_ the jerk, jerk!"

Now it was Davin's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Now I _know_ you're not me; I'd never resort to such a lame comeback."

"Well then I really am you, because I happen to know that you really are that lame," the Fangirl retorted.

"You know, or is it just your opinion?" Davin replied. "Despite the ignorance of millions on the Internet, the two are not the same."

"I _know_ you're lame," said The Fangirl. "All the evidence is right there for anybody to see it."

"The evidence is there for you to draw an arbitrary conclusion based on your own personal bias," Davin said in rebuttal. "Your predilections do not align with my own, therefore our interests clash and we do not get along. Thusly," he went on with a smirk, "you do not like me, and use your dislike as justification to use your imagination to interfere with my own, which I really wish you wouldn't do."

The Fangirl scowled at him. "Or maybe you're just a jerk!"

Davin shrugged. "Or that." He rattled his handcuffs for a moment, then returned his attention to the other writer. "So, now that I know that you're here, and you know that I know that you're here, and I know that you know that I know that you're here, what do we do?"

"Now," said The Fangirl, typing at her laptop for a moment, "I unpause your imagination and go back to screwing with you. Have fun!"

"No, wait!" Davin said, attempting to hold up his hands but failing because he was still attached to the table. "We should work together!"

The Fangirl's expression softened. "You mean, we should collaborate to make an ideal version of Hyrule where we both get what we want from the story and get to be happy?"

"Or," suggested Davin, "we could extract ourselves from each other's imaginations and go on with our separate lives."

"Oh," said The Fangirl. "I like that one better. Let's do that." She frowned. "How do we do that?"

Davin shrugged. "I have no idea. I thought I did it once already, but that didn't work."

"And I can't just kick you out," The Fangirl said thoughtfully, "otherwise I'd have done that like ten chapters ago."

"I've come to get you out!" the deep voice of Ganondorf suddenly announced as he appeared from the shadows at one side of the interrogation room. He glanced up at The Fangirl. "Oh, it's you. I figured we'd be running into you sooner or later."

"Wait, what?" Davin and The Fangirl said simultaneously, then looked at each other. "I thought Ganondorf was part of _your_ imagination!"

"I'm part of my own imagination," said Ganondorf. "Now that I know what's going on, neither of you will be able to influence me anymore."

"How is _that_ possible?" The Fangirl said, astonished. "You're a fictional character from a video game!"

Ganondorf spread his hands. "Not anymore."

"Do you mean to tell me," Davin said slowly, "that I think about your character so much, and _she_ thinks about your character so much, that in this messed-up shared dream world, you've attained individual self-awareness?"

Ganondorf nodded once.

"See, this is why you're lame," said The Fangirl, looking over at Davin. "This used to be a dream about a wacky road trip, and in the space of a few minutes, you've managed to turn it into some weird pseudo-psychological dream thingy that wants to be intelligent but is actually just pretentious. Only you could screw up a nice fun dream this badly."

"Hey, I liked that movie!" Davin said defensively. "Don't go mocking it just because you weren't observant enough to follow the plot!"

"This doesn't have anything to do with the movie!" The Fangirl said exasperatedly. "This has to do with you and how lame _you_ are!"

"_I'm_ lame? Who's the one who lost control of her own imagination and whose characters became self-aware and started harassing people?" Davin argued.

"Oh, will you two just kiss and get it over with?" Ganondorf exclaimed, propping his fists on his hips.

Davin rounded on him as best he was able. "Okay, one, this is not conflicted affection; it's actual hatred. Two, she's possibly a figment of my imagination, so that would be weird. Even _I'm_ not that desperate and/or screwed up."

"I am _so_ tired of that expression 'and/or'," said The Fangirl. "It's so pretentious."

Davin turned back to her. "Really? That's what you're going to complain about from that little exchange? Really?" He started to turn away, but turned back. "And stop going off topic; we're so far from what we were originally talking about that I don't even remember what it was."

"We were talking about what a jerk you are," said The Fangirl.

Davin eyed her contemplatively. "If you are part of my mind, you must be the part that has ADD," he said. "Possibly also OCD, 'cause you seem to be stuck on the whole 'I'm a jerk' concept."

"That's 'cause you are a jerk, jerk!"

"Okay, I'm a jerk," Davin said impatiently. "If I admit that, will you stop saying it?"

"I'll stop calling you a jerk when you stop being a jerk!" The Fangirl retorted.

Davin's reply was a frustrated scream, accompanied by clenching motions of his shackled hands. "You're not going to stop until I lose my mind, are you?"

The Fangirl scoffed. "I'd say you're pretty far past that already. I mean, you're talking to a supposedly fictional Dark Lord and a girl who may or may not in fact be a figment of your imagination."

"It's almost as if we're all at the mercy of some greater entity who's causing all this to happen purely for his own amusement," Davin observed.

"You mean like God?" The Fangirl asked. "I always knew we were all just a giant game of 'The Sims' to God."

"No, I mean like that guy over there," Davin said, pointing with one cuffed hand at the second figure in a chair-shaped cloud armed with a laptop, of whom he had just become aware. "Who is that?"

The boy in the cloud-chair looked up at them, startled. "Uh-oh."

* * *

Author's Note: The fact that this is all actually fictional-Davin's dream within Fangirl's dream is the one plot element I've had in mind the entire time I've been writing this. Everything else, I'm just sort of making up as I go along. I want to know how this turns out just as much as you do. ;)


	7. All Right, Enough Of This Crap

Seven

('All Right, Enough Of This Crap')

Davin Sunrider, former Dark Side Comedian and current involuntary outlaw, sat cuffed to an interrogation table, staring up at something he did not expect.

Himself.

For, you see, Davin saw _himself_ sitting in a chair-shaped cloud, armed with a reality-bending laptop, currently wearing a green flannel shirt, gray sweatpants, blue-and-black knitted socks, and a surprised expression.

The other Davin looked around at the cast of characters gathered around the table. "You can all see me now, can't you?" he said apprehensively.

"Yes," said the Dark Lord Ganondorf. "Yes, we can."

"You wanna explain just what the hell is going on here?" said The Fangirl, perched on her own Writer's Cloud.

"Hmm," said Other Davin. "I appear to have fallen asleep while writing all of this. That's the only explanation I can think of."

"So," said Davin, the one cuffed to the table, "I'm in a dream within a dream, within yet another dream?"

"Yes," answered the other Davin, whom the fictional Davin decided to call The Author for the sole reason of not confusing himself any further. "I've always wondered what lucid dreaming is like; seems like I finally got it to work this time."

"This is about four different kinds of messed up," said Davin. "I think you've got some 'splainin to do."

The Author chuckled. "Ah, me. I'm so funny I make me laugh so hard sometimes."

"Shut up and answer the question, jerk!" snapped The Fangirl. "What is going on here?"

"I am The Author," said The Author. "All of this is happening in my imagination, just before I write it down in The Real World and then later post it on a website for people to read."

"So all this crap is you coming up with weird plot twists and jokes?" Davin said incredulously. "All this weirdness about me dreaming this but actually being inside _her_ head is _you_ trying to be creative?"

"Pfft!" scoffed The Fangirl. "Creativeness Fail! You suck, Other Glasses Fish!"

"Quiet, you, or I'll make you kiss Ganondorf!" said The Author, with narrowed eyes.

"That's not a punishment to her," Ganondorf pointed out, gesturing up at the practically salivating Fangirl.

"Oh, right," said The Author. He turned back to The Fangirl. "Be quiet, or I'll make you kiss Davin."

"BLAAAAAARRRGGGHHH!" The Fangirl screamed in revulsion. "I'll be good, I swear!"

"Is this really necessary?" Davin complained. "The least you can do for a fictional version of yourself is at least not make me repulsive to all women. Is this some sort of attempt at self-parody, or are you really that pathetic?"

"Quiet, you, or I'll make _you_ kiss Ganondorf," threatened The Author.

Ganondorf actually turned a little green at this. "That's a punishment for _both_ of us," he said, shuddering.

Davin also shuddered. "You said it, Your Evilness."

"Isn't this supposed to be a Legend of Zelda story?" asked The Fangirl. "The only character I see is Ganondorf, and he's hardly doing anything Zelda-y."

Ganondorf grinned suggestively at this, but before he could even say anything, Davin snapped, "Don't you even say it!"

"Yeah!" agreed The Author. "I've mostly avoided that sort of humor with this story so far, and I'll not have you starting up just because I've fallen asleep!"

"What about all that business with the hippies?" Ganondorf said. "Some girl asked me to go back to her tent, and the next time Davin saw me, I was naked! How much more suggestive can you get, you hypocrite?"

The Author fell silent at this, though he clearly wasn't happy at being outwitted by one of his own characters. "It's not explicit!" he said defensively.

"It ain't 'PG', either," retorted Davin.

"I rated this story 'T'," The Author argued. "I think I'm actually being quite tame with this. You should see some of the other things I've seen on this site that claim to be 'T'."

"I've seen them," Ganondorf said with another shudder. "Some people do not understand the rating system."

"Or they just don't care," The Fangirl pointed out.

"There's that," Ganondorf agreed. "Although, to be fair, most of life isn't 'PG' or even 'PG-13', really. You should hear how this guy talks when he thinks nobody who knows him is listening."

"Oh, I _know_ you're not talking about me, Mr. Promiscuous Overlord!" Davin snapped. "It might not have been written down, but I could hear what was going on in that tent!"

"What did I _just_ tell you?" exclaimed The Author. "Keep it clean! Is that so hard?"

"That's what she said!" Davin shouted at him defiantly.

"Oh, that's it!" yelled The Author, leaping down off his cloud. "It's on now!"

He ran over and kicked Davin in the shin, hard. He jumped back when Davin tried to retaliate, thumbing his nose obnoxiously.

"A little help?" Davin said to Ganondorf, jerking his handcuffs against the loop on the table for emphasis.

Ganondorf quickly shot a bolt of power at him that severed the chain connecting the handcuffs, and Davin leaped over the table to tackle The Author to the ground.

"Now, _that's_ existential," The Fangirl observed.

"No, it isn't!" Ganondorf retorted over the fighting Davins. "That's not what 'existential' means at all!"

"Why don't you come up here and prove it, Grumpendorf?" The Fangirl taunted. She stuck her thumbs in her ears and waved her fingers mockingly at the Dark Lord.

"Don't think just because you're a girl I won't do it!" Ganondorf warned, pointing at her with an ominous finger.

"Oooh, big scary Dark Lord in a biker jacket!" The Fangirl said mockingly. "I'm all the way up here! What can-"

Ganondorf waved his hand, and the cloud-chair disappeared, dropping The Fangirl unceremoniously to the floor.

"Oh, crap."

None of the four of them ever quite figured out exactly what happened after that, because after perhaps a minute or two of free-for-all brawling through the tiny interrogation room, they all paused at a piercing whistle.

They froze, tangled around one another, hands/arms/legs wrapped around one another's necks, and looked up to see Princess Zelda standing in the doorway, hands on her hips and a disapproving frown on her face. She still wore her modern clothes and long dark red coat, but for some reason had put on her tiara. Link stood behind her, once again armed with his sword and shield.

"What is going on here?" the Princess demanded irritably. "And I want a simple, concise explanation."

"He's a jerk," said The Fangirl, indicating Davin, whom she had in a headlock. "And so is he," she said, indicating The Author, whose hands were (partly) wrapped around the throat of Ganondorf, who had a fist raised to punch him, and also one leg trying to kick The Fangirl.

"That sums it up rather well, actually," agreed Ganondorf, relinquishing his grip on The Author's collar and standing up. "Shall we be going back to Hyrule, then?"

"I thought you would never ask," Zelda said. "Even a Hyrule under your control is more tolerable than _this_ crazy place."

"Hey!" Davin and The Author said in unison.

Ganondorf looked at the other two Triforce Bearers. "What do you say we forget these three idiots, go back to Hyrule, and go back to trying to kill each other like we always do? I'll invade the castle again and take Zelda prisoner, and then Link can try to free her and maybe kill me, but then I'll just come right back and start the whole thing over again in slightly different form."

"Deal," said Link.

"Agreed," said Zelda.

"But what about the romance?" asked The Fangirl.

"But what about the comedy?" asked The Author.

When he didn't say anything, they all glanced expectantly at Davin.

"I don't have a plaintive question," he said. "I just want all this to be over."

Zelda looked at The Fangirl, then at The Author, then gestured at Davin. "The romance isn't romantic, the comedy isn't funny, at least not to me, and both of you have tormented this poor boy entirely too much. I think it's time to put an end to this, finally, so all of us can find something more productive to do."

"Fine," The Author said grumpily. "I'll write an ending." He retrieved his laptop, placed it on the table, and typed for a few minutes.

"You should come with us," Ganondorf said to the fictional Davin. "I can order one of my guards to be your girlfriend, and maybe together we can finish conquering Hyrule and turn it into a nice party kingdom. I'll give you your own Evil Castle, and you can do whatever you want with it."

"Thanks, but no thanks," said Davin. "After all the crap that's happened to me over the last fourteen chapters, I think I'll just be happy to become a dormant part of his imagination for a while," he said with a gesture at The Author. He shrugged, grinning. "Who knows? Since I'm actually a part of his mind, maybe I can screw up _his_ life a little for doing all this to me."

Ganondorf grinned amusedly. "That sounds fair." He extended a hand. "Good luck, Sunrider dude."

Davin shook his hand. "Good luck to you, Your Evilness," he replied. He grinned. "But not too much."

Ganondorf laughed only a little unpleasantly, then went to stand over by the other two Bearers.

"Aaaand, done!" said The Author, hitting a final key on his laptop.

Ganondorf used his magic, and the three Bearers vanished back to Hyrule to have more, hopefully less ridiculous adventures.

The Fangirl, since she was completely a part of The Author's imagination, simply disappeared with a final, echoing, "You're a jerk, Glasses Fish!"

Davin and The Author regarded each other for a moment as the interrogation room faded away into blank whiteness.

"You know what?" Davin said to his non-fictional self.

"What?" The Author asked.

"We are one screwed-up guy, you know that?"

The Author grinned cheerfully. "You like being like this and you know it."

Davin pondered this for a moment, then finally shrugged. "It is pretty fun."

"Hey," said The Author. "You think I should do a third one someday?"

Davin made a face. "Goddesses, no." He stared at his real self for a moment. "You're going to do a third one, aren't you?"

The Author grinned obnoxiously. "Of course. What's a crappy sequel without an even crappier sequel to follow it?"

Davin facepalmed. "Please tell me you aren't going to write it right after this one. The only thing worse than a stupid sequel to an otherwise good original is _two_ stupid sequels made back-to-back. Don't go all Hollywood on me... me."

The Author waved a hand dismissively. "Nah," he said. "I'll give it a few months. I've got too much else to do to go right back to tormenting you for another seven chapters."

"Gee, thanks," Davin said sarcastically. "Are you going to end this, or are we just going to debate this for another few pages?"

The Author just smiled again. "All right, I'll end it. I'll see you when I see you, dude."

Davin sighed. "No rush."

* * *

Author's Note: And you didn't think it was possible for me to make this any weirder. Showed _you_, didn't I? ;)

This is the end, though. Davin the Dark Side Comedian will not return until 'Flaming Din, Not a Trilogy!' in several months, or the next time I feel the need to write something ridiculous. For now, though, I extend my thanks to all the reviewers. Except that one guy from Chapter 5. Calm down, dude; it's a goofy humor story, not a political blog. There's no call for that kind of thing here.

Now it's back to work on my regular fics; please check those out if you haven't already. Thanks for reading!


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